


Hangin' with Mr. Cooper

by SorchaR



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, screwing around with history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorchaR/pseuds/SorchaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale of D.B. Cooper is a mystery, one that no one knows the solution to.</p><p>Well, almost no one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hangin' with Mr. Cooper

**Author's Note:**

> My husband and I went to a lecture about D.B. Cooper tonight, and I noticed right away the similarities between the police sketches and Coulson. This is what happened.
> 
> For more about the legend of D.B. Cooper, including one of the sketches, go to http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/criminal_mind/scams/DB_Cooper/index.html.

The intercom crackles to life. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

Phil suppresses a curse, working feverishly to put on the jump boots and helmet his contact stowed in the overhead bins before leaving the plane. "No!" They can leave him alone is what they can do.

He slips into his trenchcoat, lined with an insulating aerogel fresh out of the lab, and puts on his parachute, adjusting it snugly. In his right hand is his briefcase, with its fake bomb and underneath, the real artifact he came to take. In his left hand is the sack of money, nothing more than a ruse.

He drops the aft stairs, opening the cabin to the freezing rain and howling wind. He tosses the money out first; he doesn't need it anymore. He steps down to the bottom stair, and, clutching the briefcase tightly, jumps.

His goggles frost over quickly as he counts down until time to pull the cord. As the parachute flutters open over his head, the tracking beacon activates, and by the time he touches down in mud, Fury and the extraction team are waiting for him.

"Got it?" Fury asks.

"Of course." Phil holds up the briefcase and removes his helmet. "Safe and sound, ready to be locked up where it won't be found." He gives Fury a hopeful glance. "Don't suppose there's time for me to take a shower before we head to the extraction point? I think I'm allergic to this fake tanner."

"Negative," Fury replies. "The equipment's too unstable. We have to go now."

Phil sighs. "Got it. Time and time machines wait for no man." His shower, on the other hand, will have to wait until post-debrief.

Fury wraps an arm around his shoulders. "Cheer up. You just went down in history. Along with $200,000, which in 2013 works out to be a million and some change."

"Not helping," Phil says wryly. "But hey, the bourbon was good. That's something."


End file.
